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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29572524">The Swan's Mistake</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NelwynP/pseuds/Willow%20Mae'>Willow Mae (NelwynP)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Animal Transformation, F/M, pride goeth before the fall</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:00:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29572524</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NelwynP/pseuds/Willow%20Mae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it takes multiple tries to reach that happily ever after...this time isn't it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hino Rei/Jadeite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Swan's Mistake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the 2010 Senshi/Shitennou Ficathon - Theme: "Fairy Tale"</p>
<p>This started as a drabble from a Livejournal prompt, and I think I liked that better than the more fleshed out story but oh well. I'm a sucker for fairy tales, and tried to emulate the traditional syntax associated with them (with varying degrees of success).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Once there lived a fletcher, who despite his considerable talent remained poor. One day as the light began to fade from the sky a man came to his clearing. The fletcher was startled for the stranger had a familiar face, and not just because it looked similar to his own reflection in the mirror. For though both men had light eyes and curling hair of blond, the fletcher felt unsettled at the sight of this man whose face couldn’t be placed. But he put aside his discomforts at once and ushered the poor man inside, for the stranger’s exhaustion and melancholy was evident even from a distance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not have much to offer,” the fletcher apologized, “but you are welcome to share a meal with me and rest, for you look like your day has been long and difficult.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man gratefully accepted. The two sat down together and while they ate, the man shared his story. He had taken part in the king’s hunt that day, and the hunt was going well until the king spotted the ultimate prize - a creature more rare and beautiful than any of the game he had previously hunted. For there on the lake swam a swan, with dark feathers that caught the light like black diamonds, a beak as bright as a ruby and eyes sharp as amethyst. Easily twice the size of any local swan and with such vibrant colors, the king vowed the make this creature the pinnacle of his collection.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now it must be understood that the king was a very good shot, and few could compare to his skill with the bow. He took aim and loosed, but as the arrow left the string the magnificent bird turned it’s bright eyes towards the party and hissed so loudly even the horses shied at the noise. To the horror of all, the king’s perfect shot flew wide and disappeared into the trees. The king was astonished for he had never missed a shot so greatly since his childhood, but even as he reloaded the great bird flew away into the sunlight and was lost.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something possessed the king then, and he became determined to find his lost arrow. Perhaps he suspected foul play of some sort, or perhaps he was trying to save face after such an embarrassing shot, but he sent every member of the party in search of the missing arrow. Thus it was that the man had been searching the wood for the rest of the day, but the arrow was well and truly lost.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can see your concern at returning empty handed, but from everything I’ve heard the king has an understanding heart. The woods are big, and full of loose twigs that could easily disguise such a small item.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But what if the arrow had been bewitched somehow? Surely he must find out if there are those who harbor ill feelings towards him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If the arrow had been ensorcelled, do you not think it would also be protected from detection? If someone wished our king ill, surely they could find a more effective means of disrupting him than putting off his hunt. And the royal magicians would surely have provided him with means to avoid bewitched objects.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His companion deflated at the fletcher’s wise words. “You are right, my friend. Most like he was startled by the noise and missed. But his pride was greatly wounded, and wouldn’t a story of a magicked arrow be better than the truth that the king is a failure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not at all!” the fletcher cried. “The human nature of a missed shots brings his story much closer to the hearts of the people. Why, even if it was the most impressive bird in the world no one would be impressed if he had killed it - it is only expected after all. But to miss...why that is glorious indeed, for it is something that every person can relate to. Tell that to our lord, and see if it might ease his frustrations over the matter. And so you do not get in trouble for returning empty-handed, I insist you take some of my wares as a gift. They may not match in royal quality, but our lord will not be down one arrow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man brightened after this exchange, and even more after he had seen the selection of arrows the fletcher had to offer. The two spoke as old friends while they selected the appropriate arrows to return to the hunting party. At last the man bundled his selection, and as he left he turned once more to the fletcher.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have been kind to me on this trying day, and your words have done much to ease my mind. Know this, that I am in fact the king, and I find I like you and your workmanship very much. You have done me a good turn in straightening out my mind on these matters, and I would return the favor. Be my royal fletcher, and you will never want for anything again. I would only require that your craft be exclusive to the royal house, and that you would honor me with your uncommon wisdom and friendship when again I find my royal mind getting ahead of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astonished and most pleased, the fletcher happily agreed to the arrangement. He was moved to close quarters at the palace where he was provided with fine clothes and meals, but most importantly the finest wood, feathers and tools to perfect his trade. In return the fletcher turned out superb arrows for the king’s exclusive use. Their arrangement carried on for many seasons until the two were more like brothers than friends. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, it was at this time the king was known to be wooing a lesser noblewoman of his court. It was also known that the courtship was not progressing well. The lady claimed ill blood between their households and sent the king about frivolous tasks to prove his devotion - and the king, utterly besotted with her, would comply. It was a most unfitting characteristic in a reigning monarch, and a most compelling subject of gossip. The more frustrated the king became with not winning her heart, the more he took out his frustration on the hunt until he had nearly cleared the forest of its inhabitants. Then he resorted to hours of target practice, with the fletcher close by listening carefully and continually working fresh arrows. This gave the fletcher an idea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My liege, I have heard it said that the lady in question is as skilled with a bow as yourself. Perhaps you might challenge her and win her respect that way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The king scoffed. “I care for the lady, I do not wish to embarrass her. Though perhaps you are in the right mind...I shall hold a contest in her name! When I have won and proven my skill to her, we shall feast in celebration on my finest hunt and my lady will stop claiming bad blood.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>When</span>
  </em>
  <span> you have won, my king?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you fear I shall manipulate the contest?” the king laughed without accusation. “Never fear, between your arrows and my skill there is not a chance to fail.” The matter was dropped and they did not speak on it again for weeks, returning to more casual conversation and friendship.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then the king’s lady arrived unexpectedly at the fletcher’s workshop in a plum dress of velvet and brocade, her hair woven through with gold. The fletcher was surprised by her visit, but greeted her appropriately. She did not care to exchange pleasantries, but spoke directly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is three days until the archery contest being held in my name. You must be very busy preparing for your king.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, madam.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lady walked through his apartments with an air of ownership, her eyes scrutinizing his work left on the table. “The king has promised me a great feast. He told me of a bird he once tried to hunt, compared its beauty to my own and promised it to me should he win. Tell me, fletcher. Do I compare well to a wild beast?” The fletcher hesitated, feeling trapped by her words. Her ruby lips smiled with unspoken secrets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Madam, you and I are both aware of your beauty. What my king may be unable to express well with words he certainly makes up for with actions - he has been good to me and to his people. Please lay down your doubts for a moment and let him try, for you have him bewitched beyond reason! His devotion has him determined to clear whatever ill-will is between your households, and surely you can see how desperately he tries.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone in his court has greatly offended me, and I wish to see them put in their place. This contest offers a fitting scene.” She ignored his pleas and spoke as though choosing her words carefully, her eyes as piercing as any of his arrows. “I have heard your king is a talented bowman.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Madam, the finest.” The lady picked up an arrow from the worktable and balanced it expertly on her finger, examining the shaft and fletching with the eye of a marksman. She handed the arrow to the fletcher with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is fine work you do. I feel this competition will do much to clear the air between myself and my offender. Use these,” she instructed, handing him a bundle wrapped in white silk. Gingerly he unlaced the ribbons and black feathers tumbled from the folds, strong and sleek as ebony and larger than any swan’s he had ever seen. “Your arrows will fly true and always strike.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Madam, I cannot...the king will not take to sorcery being used on his behalf.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You misunderstand me.” she gave a curt laugh, then paused. “Between the quality of these feathers and your skill, the arrows will be the finest in the hands of the finest. My gift, sir. I shall return the night before the contest to retrieve them, I should like to present them myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The day of the contest arrived and all the court was buzzing. The fletcher told the king of all the had been exchanged with his lady, and the monarch could not keep his gaze from the package in her lap that surely contained the promised arrows of her favor. At last he could clear away this unknown offense in her eyes, but every time he approached she smiled demurely and kept her hands still, offering him nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All manner of participants arrived, and the contest stretched long into the day. As each contestant was slowly eliminated by increasingly difficult challenges, the excitement built to an unbearable state. Soon it would be just the king and the one who had offended his lady, but still she made no move to offer her favor. The fletcher watched, unsettled. The king too appeared confused by her still resolve, but when it came to the final shot and still the lady made no move the king’s skill was undeniable and the contest was won. He approached the observation box and pronounced loudly for all to hear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My fair lady, the games have been won in your honor! I have put to shame every member of my court and all in your name. Be no more offended by mine, and join me to feast.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At last the lady rose and slowly unwrapped her parcel, which indeed held the quiver of arrows made by the royal fletcher. The king stepped forward to receive his prize, but was stopped as instead the lady drew a bow from beneath her seat and fired an arrow herself, splitting the king’s winning shot perfectly in half. The crowds went silent with shock, but a frenzied murmuring overtook the people as the lady continued and fired two more shots, each splitting the one before with eerie accuracy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thrice my king, you have offended me and thrice I have made right by my offence,” the lady announced. “Once when you did me the dishonor of holding a contest in my name and refusing my participation. Once when you likened me to a prize on a hunt, beautiful but brainless. And once more...” but here she stopped, and spoke no further of the final offence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once the king recovered his senses he was in an uproar. His pride ruined, he cried out witchcraft and summoned the guards to arrest his lady despite the conflict of his heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you know of this?” he demanded of the fletcher. “You spoke with her, made the arrows and told me nothing of the shame that awaited me at the end of this day. It was all your accursed idea in the first place, you told me to hold the contest!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Convinced of the fletcher’s betrayal and ignoring his pleas of innocence, the guards took him into custody as well, no longer in royal favor. The king approached the pair, keenly aware of the crowds of people watching his actions unfold. The guards turned a polite eye away from the tears in their lord’s eyes, but the fletcher and lady could not keep their gaze from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Madam, I would gladly have done anything to turn your eye my way. Perhaps I said or did the wrong thing but my heart was always yours and my intentions never more valiant. And though I would not take no for an answer, I would not have forced you to do anything against your will, and yet you see fit to consort with my employee rather than myself! For your blatant disregard to my authority as your king and not just a man in love, I cannot overlook the disrespect you have shown me today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sir, though I brought you to court from mean roots you have always behaved with the decorum of a true noble. Because of this I was pleased to not only have your skill but to call you friend. Many a deep and thoughtful conversation we have had, and I always believed your opinions to be wise and without bias. Only to now find that you have been leading me astray, even after I had expressed my heart and concerns in regard to my lady! Was your jealousy so keen? This betrayal I cannot overlook either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Had we spoken our grievances in private audience, I could spare you both the brunt of my wrath despite the heaviness you weigh upon my heart. But here, with my people looking to me to be swift and strong in judgement, I must sentence you both to death by flame. Tomorrow, with the rising sun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the morning, as the crowds gathered the trio looked upon each other with anguish. The fletcher flinched at the lady’s touch even as their hands were bound to the stake in the courtyard. His anger and sorrow fought mightily, and his pleas to his king were heard but left unanswered. And then in the crowd he caught sight of a man. This face too was familiar to him, in ways unknown and uncomfortable and reminded the fletcher painfully of his first meeting with the king. The stranger’s dark head was bowed but even in silhouette it caused an ache to rise in the fletcher’s heart. The lady saw him too and reacted instantly and strained against her bonds. She called out to him in desperation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Brother, forgive me! This is not how I planned it! I was so angry at the past, so very angry...I’m sorry!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not how you planned it?” cried the fletcher. “How exactly did you expect things to turn out, my lady?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The woman confesses to plotting and treachery.” The king sighed and hung his head. “That I cannot abide. Begin the final judgement.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the flames took hold and the crowd jeered unkindly, the fletcher and the king wept for each other. The lady too wept, “I did not mean to interfere, it was going so well, I’m so sorry for your loss, we can try again next time...please don’t, please, please....” and even as she whimpered and wept, the bonds began to sag around her wrists. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From the flames rose a black swan, twice the size of any in the kingdom. It had dark feathers that caught the light like black diamonds, a beak as bright as a ruby and eyes sharp as amethyst. No one noticed the pendant tossed onto the flames by the dark haired man whom she had called brother. Three men watched the bird scream and fly away. Two men wept as the flames grew higher. Only one man truly understood what was lost.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Long after the crowds dispersed, the king watched the embers glow in the courtyard. In the ash he caught sight of a golden chain, broken and melting in the intense heat. The king wished something had been left of the fletcher as well, so that he might keep a memory of them both to bury in private. He almost didn’t notice as another figure came to stand by his side. “I was betrayed by my heart, I was betrayed by my friend. I am king, I did what needed to be done.” He looked at the man who had joined him and fell to his knees. He could not place where he knew those eyes that looked upon him with such sympathy from behind black locks. But looking at the man made his stomach churn and he heaved a sob. “Please forgive me...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I always do.” The man pulled a pendant from beneath his shirt and turned to walk away, but gave one last glance to the mourning king. “Do not let grief consume you, friend. We shall try again. We shall get it right at last.” Then he touched the gem and took flight, a brilliant black swan naked against the moonlight.</span>
</p>
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